


Champions

by 35grams (caxxe)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Boxing, Fluff, Freeform, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caxxe/pseuds/35grams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the two seasons that passed since their first meeting, Levi had long since learned that Erwin could never communicate so clearly in words as he could with his body. Veterans wilted under his glare; galas bloomed at his smile. And yet, with Levi and with him alone - he had never seen so much as a blink at hordes of titans or ornery Sina noblemen  - the master politician and career spy was betrayed by a twitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champions

 

            Wrinkles veined through his shirts. Hands raised for emphasis or direction trembled. Wiry strands of blonde and grey remained where the razor missed. Levi didn't want to notice. When news trickled out in hushed whispers that the Survey Corps was looking at debilitating funding cuts following a lengthy string of manufactured scandals, he had no reason to be curious either, curious why, of all the threats Erwin faced, of all the leviathan hands and teeth that ever came within the space of a breath from tearing him in two, this was the one that teased grey into his hair and carved lines on his brow.  
  
            Levi nevertheless found himself opposite the commander's desk to hear the answer to the question on the lips of every soldier in the corps from the man himself.   
  
            Erwin rubbed his eyes for what seemed like hours before opening his mouth.   
  
            "Nothing is impossible," he said simply, voice thick with lack of sleep. It didn't answer Levi's unprompted "Are we fucked?" but his interest had since shifted. He gave the commander a pointedly sweeping glance and folded his arms.  
  
            "You look like shit."  
  
            "Levi-"  
  
            "Pressing shirts is one thing, but I don't think you want me with a razor near your neck."  
  
            Erwin's eyebrows shot up. He looked down at his shirt and back at Levi. "You-"  
  
            "Forget it. And don't give me the petition card I've been hearing you give the others. Sending petitions to save this little club to the same people who printed shit after steaming shit about us in the papers after that nobleman's son deserted right into a titan's mouth last expedition is not," he said, leaning over the desk, "what you've been doing day and night all week."  
  
            Erwin smiled. Levi paced.  
  
            "Whatever. Think having the undead for a commander helps us any more than these rumors?"  
  
            "It will. Soon."  
  
            "Yeah?"  
  
            Erwin considered him for a moment. His eyes lit. The tremor in his hands lessened. The grey in his hair even seemed to recede. Levi held the stare with some effort.  
  
            Erwin leaned forward.  
  
            "Do you trust me?"  
  
            In a moment, Levi recalled every command he was ever given, every order he'd obeyed. He  considered the ones he had disobeyed, only to later learn that Erwin had not only anticipated the mutiny but seamlessly integrated it into his designs and refused to discipline him despite the ire of his superiors. He knew where to press and push and pull him to achieve his ends.   
  
            Erwin drew away. "I'm sorry," he said, "that was a strange thing to ask," as Levi wondered how little time - how little effort - it had taken Erwin to learn him, and with no little indignation wondered at what moment he had become another piece on his board.  
  
            His own name drew him out of the reverie. Erwin looked at him strangely. Levi assumed he had appeared as engrossed with the question as he felt, but even so, Erwin's expression roused him. He had never seen the commander so unguardedly uncertain. He thought himself not easily addicted, but committing to memory every moment that Erwin's composure suffered even an infinitesimal slip had become a more than favorite hobby as of late.  
  
            He was never far when Levi instructed the recruits and drilled the soldiers. For months, Levi didn't think anything of it. "Thug" was thrown around more often than his own name for weeks. "Crime Lord" was popular for a season. Once "Little Shit" and "Midget Master" entered the local lexicon, however, and everyone from top brass to recruit stopped clutching their possessions in his vicinity with quite the same fervor as before, the Captain-almost-turned-Commander's persistent attentions began to feel oppressive, even threatening. The same eye that plotted man's path into freedom and jaws alike was following his movements with a religious commitment, and Levi, who had long thrived by hiding in plain sight among filth and rock and mob, felt his skull splitting open and revealing his every thought as a too-familiar pair of eyes bore into the back of his head at every turn.  
  
            Levi had caught up with him one evening as the recruits dispersed, the soldiers drenched and bruised from an afternoon of learning maneuvers not strictly approved by the brass. Complaints and orders to desist had curiously vanished at the same time a certain captain began observing the drills.  
  
            "Convinced?" Levi had asked humorlessly, chest rising and falling heavily from exertion. Erwin offered a towel and led the way back to the compound as Levi snatched it and followed.  
  
            "I was convinced many miles away and as many underground."  
  
            "Not the maneuvers," Levi said in between toweling himself off, "I know when I'm being watched for more than a pretty skip and hop-"  
  
            "And twirl."  
  
            "Watch it, Commander."  
  
            Erwin's smirk fell as soon as it had appeared. "Commander?"  
  
            Levi scoffed, throwing the towel in Erwin's face and peeling off his damp shirt. "You can play pretend with the rookies, Commander Erwin Smith," he said, emphasizing the title with mock reverence, "but don't think I don't see the way the horses slobber at the grooming you're getting." He threw his shirt over one shoulder and stepped over a loose root. He held the lessons at a considerable distance from the compound, an effort to discourage those who weren't prepared for the strain.  
  
            Erwin rubbed his jaw. "I don't want to presume-"  
  
            "I'll do it for you, then. Commander." It had less bite this time, as if Levi had said the word for the first time. In a way, he had. It would never again mean anything but Erwin Smith.  
  
            Erwin's mouth curved into a smile. Levi looked away. He could bear the polite smile and the forced one, even the arresting fundraiser smile. But the one that reached his eyes, the faintly crooked one that bloomed before he thought to realign it, that one riled Levi to no end. He hated its nakedness, its plainness. He hated the spike in his pulse at catching the rare thing, and despite no effort on his part to spare the man the business end of his sharp tongue from day one, the rarity became far less so in his company.   
  
            "Anyway. Still coming around to see," Levi started, eager to see it disappear, "how your pet project's doing?"  
  
            The compound was in sight, as were the buildings peeking through gaps in the dense pockets of trees and undergrowth. He heard a break in footfall behind him. Levi turned to Erwin, who had stopped, as if it took all his energy to address Levi as he did.  
  
            "You were never either of those things," he said severely.  
  
            "You're right," said Levi, stalking toward him, "I doubt you'd recruit a dog by drowning him in sewage."  
  
            Erwin closed the space between them, towering over Levi and forcing him to crane his neck, the angle marginally less mortifying than if Levi had broken eye contact with the hardened face before him.   
  
            "I never made that up to you."  
  
            It was then that Levi noticed it first. It wasn't one thing, nor was it the same each time. A twitch at the lip. Anxious, darting eyes. Nails digging into a curled hand. They were details so out of character for the man that they appeared mockingly so. In the two seasons that passed since their first meeting, Levi had long since learned that Erwin could never communicate so clearly in words as he could with his body. Veterans wilted under his glare; galas bloomed at his smile. And yet, with Levi and with him alone - he had never seen so much as a blink at hordes of titans or ornery Sina noblemen - the master politician and career spy was betrayed by a twitch.   
  
            "You did," Levi said, a breath too quickly. He swore inwardly at Erwin's infectious sincerity. When Erwin remained silent, waiting for more, Levi only resumed the walk back to base. Erwin followed.  
  
            Erwin glanced askance at him, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder when they neared the threshold of the east building. "I won't pretend I come around for no other reason than to admire your work, though I do. You're-"  
  
            "Alright, alright," said Levi, brushing off the hand, "you can propose to me later, I need to get cleaned up."  
  
            The answer hadn't convinced him then, nor did it  as he stood over him in that office. He felt something gnaw at his chest, willing Levi to believe in him as his mind played back just such sweet words from every thug, cop or rat who had ever offered him praise with one hand and drawn a knife with the other.   
  
            "I'll make this problem go away," Levi said quietly.  
  
            Erwin's brows descended.  
  
            "I'll be in the Capitol by morning."  
  
            "Levi-"  
  
            "You will not follow me."  
  
            "And-"  
  
            "Your plan? It's been out of your hands for days. You're waiting for word. You only have that look when you're waiting."  
  
            "What look?" Erwin asked, tone entirely neutral except that it was forcibly so.  
  
            "You wander more. You stare into the distance like a heroine in some shitty dime store novel, waiting for your lover, Sir Convoluted-Plan to return. You only go up to the-" he started, realizing too late that he might be revealing too much. Erwin studied him expectantly. Levi studied the smears on a nearby windowpane. "You're only up on that northwest terrace when you're waiting for something. Not some weather report or a coffee from Mike. Something big."  
  
            Erwin's gaze fell for a moment, as if watching Levi for another moment would force the tug at his lips into a proper smile.   
  
            "Coffee from Mike is always big news."  
  
            "Save it."  
  
            Erwin didn't smile again, but he wasn't above letting it show in his eyes. "What do you have in mind?" he asked.  
  
            "Trust me."   
  
            Erwin sat up straighter. He gave Levi a single searching, suffocating look. Finally, he spoke.

            "What do you need?"  
  
            "Something important," said Levi. "Crucial, even."   
  
            Levi enjoyed the expectant face, his fisted hands and stiff back. He enjoyed all the more the raised brow he earned from reaching out and brushing the stubble on his jaw with the sweeping pad of his thumb.  
  
            "I need you to shave this shit. And wait. Preferably in a bed. Asleep. Remember how to sleep, commander?"  
  
            Erwin grinned against his palm and pressed Levi's hand with his own. "I will."   
  
            Levi frowned at the warm hand over his. He pulled away and turned back to his observatory dissertation of the smear patterns on the window.   
  
            "My contact will return in three days-" Erwin started.  
  
            "I'll be back in one."   
  
            Levi mulled over pieces of their exchange the next morning as his knuckles split from their impact on an especially dense jaw, spraying a crimson mist into roaring spectators.  
  
            Levi squinted through the sun's glare. His chest heaved with the rise and fall of his burning lungs. Hange bolted to his side and doused him with water. It splashed and curled over his reddened shoulders and chest.   
  
            Hange hummed as they rubbed a lotion into his face and neck, whirling him around and yanking his jaw in all directions. Levi scowled at being manhandled. He groaned lowly and eyed the next challenger, a portly gentleman with as many rings on his fingers as teeth in his mouth. Levi stretched his legs and hissed as his burning skin protested. "Hange, I-" 

            "I know, I know, I know," they chanted, planting a kiss on his head and leading his eye by nudging his jaw. "But look," they said, pointing to pockets in the crowd and to balconies first overhead and then around the square in which the ring sat. "The earnings tripled since you gave the ladies a good look at this," Hange yelled over the crowd and gently touched his reddened chest. "And men," Levi said flatly, "if I had to go on where I've been grabbed in the last few matches." Levi shoved Hange out of the ring before they could double over from laughter and approached the next contender.  
  
            The accusations of corruption, greed and sloth that damned the Survey Corps cultivated the belief that the soldiers of the Corps did little else but sit idly and make a show of leaving the walls to draw attention away from its hedonistic misuse of government funds. Time had stoked Levi's fondness for the Corps, the soldiers, the cause. Even, though he'd sooner wed a Titan than announce it, the commander himself.  
  
            The baseless yet devastating campaign against the Corps' integrity, then, was a slight to himself as personal as if his own name was plastered on every anti-corps newsletter and poster in Sina. It was his great fortune, then, to discover in his occasional perusal of the commander's quarters - without his explicit consent - a book of law with a single curious entry.  
  
            "Provision C.46.5: Should the paramilitary organization known as the Survey Corps collect in the span of twenty four hours in the presence of at least one sitting Councilman the monetary funds required to sustain two consecutive expeditions past the gates of Wall Maria, Parliament must enable the passage of legislation which stipulates that no more than triple the sum of all earnings collected within the aforementioned time frame are to be deposited into the accounts of the Survey Corps to be utilized at its discretion."  
  
            It had been attached to a much larger fiscal bill passed some five decades prior, and was so much shorter and lacked so many of the qualifiers and restrictions that followed or preceded other items in the bill that it looked entirely like it was either snuck into it or thrown in as a joke. Either way, further inquiry into legal archives by his Sina-based contacts had confirmed that, while never taken advantage of in any capacity or even mentioned after its passing, the law was viable.  
  
            Conditions could not have been better. Supporters of the Corps yearned to witness a testament of their strength as much as its detractors could not be more pleased with an opportunity to smear their name to the last. What's more, Levi's eyes and ears in Sina reported talk of the emergence of humanity's strongest soldier, but with neither a name or face to claim the title.   
  
            He was right in approaching Hange and only Hange. After a torturous afternoon of answering questions that admittedly breathed life into the plan if only by describing its execution to the last breath, Hange enthusiastically agreed. He didn't expect them to have much pull in the city, but Hange, determined to make a habit of surprising him, had enough connections in Sina's university systems to resolve logistical issues before they even arose. A Councilman was found. Posters and town criers appeared on every corner within hours. In the space of an afternoon, the city vibrated with a lust for spectacle. Hange insisted that Sina simmer for an evening, and so as the sun rose on the following day, the two rode into the square, jostling their way through a crowd larger than they had ever seen.  
  
            Hour 12. Faces and bodies melted into one roaring entity. The constant motion blurred bodies and minds into shimmering apparitions that shouted and swung and swore. Hange's team collected fees and bets. Whispered numbers in his ear powered Levi's hooks well into the night.  
  
            Lamps were lit. They swayed and spiraled in blinding arcs and vicious afterglares. There were no rules. The first handful of opponents observed them anyway, perhaps out of habit or respect. For the first hour, the contest of endurance and strength was civil, even respectful.   
  
            Soon, his opponents wore unicorns on their backs and sneers on their lips, and Levi knew what degree of civility to expect from then on.  
  
            Hour 18. Hange all but strapped him down to slow his cacophonic heart. He ducked and swerved past fists and feet and the occasional knife, limbs burning and head buzzing with a number that was never high enough. Hange's suggestion to incorporate nude wrestling, however, was thoroughly ignored.  
  
            Sweat plastered his hair to his face as epithets and accusations hurled at him from hours before resurfaced in the transitory moments before the impact of a whistling fist or in the time it took for an opponent to fall. "Dog", "Criminal" and "Thug" were expected, even nostalgic. One returned in fragments, again and again.  
  
            "-enough that you-"   
  
            "-not enough-"  
  
            "-us blind-"  
  
            "-murder-"  
             
            "-now you-"   
  
            "-our children-"  
  
            He rubbed his temples as Hange dressed cuts and prodded around to make sure this or that bruise was not something worse. Levi exhaled, willing the words to return in their proper order. "It's not enough," the man had said, thick, leathery hands curled into fists, "-not enough you and your thugs robbed the city blind. Now you're murdering our children."  
  
            He caught himself wondering what Erwin would think, what he would have said.   
  
            Hange shook him lightly. "Anyone in there?" they asked softly.   
  
            "He would know by now," he said.  
  
            "What?"  
  
            "Erwin. Word would have reached headquarters by now."  
  
            Hange grinned, making a motion that looked like they meant to elbow him in the ribs but stopped just short of his bruised skin. "Shame we can't see his face, yeah?"  
  
            "Yeah," he said distantly.   
  
            "Think he's more proud or pissed?"  
  
            Levi scowled at them. "You think he's why I did this?"  
  
            Hange threw their hands up in surrender.  
  
            Levi stood, stretching his arms as the crowd thickened to greet the start of another round.  
  
            "I never did ask why you're doing this," he heard behind him. He turned, a warning on his lips when Hange stopped him with, "And I never wanted to. You two take your sweet time filling the rest of us in but," and their smile was a touch more somber, "I don't mind. Your word's enough."  
  
              He nodded, and after a pause, "'You two?'"  
  
            "You and Erwin? Can't tell you apart recently- I mean, except for the..." Hange flattened their palms, poised one at Levi's height, and stood on tip toe to indicate Erwin's.   
  
            Hour 19. His throat burned. Rivulets of sweat trickled over blue and purple. Hange bound his fractured arm to his side, face set grimly as the crowd roared, hungry for the tears and shouts and pained groans that Levi wouldn't give.  
  
            Hour 23. Levi stepped into the ring, every inch of him straining in protest as numbers and projections mired his vision. Faces materialized in shadows that crumbled away the moment his eyes darted to them.  He tried to blink away an inexplicable apparition of Mike.  
  
            He belatedly registered the hiss of gas and wire, as well as the crowd's hushed murmur. He put the information together laboriously, mind at half capacity from carrying him through so many waking hours. It was no apparition. Mike had flown right into the ring. Levi bent his knees and raised his remaining arm in a fighting stance, reason starved by exhaustion.  
  
            Mike held out his hand.   
  
            Levi considered it vaguely, the world swimming at the slightest turn of his head. Hange yelled something behind him, but he couldn't bear to address more than one incomprehensible person at a time. He reached out and took the hand.  
  
            He felt it lifted above his head as a din filled his ears, eyes washing over the writhing, hollering mass of commoners and noblemen and sons and daughters with unicorns and roses and wings on their backs.  
  
            Mike let his arm drop and reached inside his cloak, rustling the wings on his back provocatively at a group of frowning MPs behind them.   
  
            Levi watched dumbly as he withdrew a cloak and offered it to him, rendering the crowd a mute beast as Levi touched the familiar wool. He gestured at his bare chest as if to ask what possessed Mike to think cloaks go on before a jacket or shirt. Mike lifted his brows meaningfully and looked from Levi to the crowd, who's impressive silence gave Levi time to process the request. He steeled his face and swung the cloak onto his shoulders, back stinging like it meant to split and peel away in ribbons as the rough fabric settled on his skin. The ensuing roar might have been heard by the titans. He caught members of Hange's team darting here and there, soliciting donations with one hand on their hearts and the other pointing to the wings on his back. Levi followed Mike out of the ring.  
  
            Levi knelt, shutting his eyes to brace for the splash of water Hange aimed at his face. As he opened them, drops falling from his lashes, the ruddy faced councilman approached them, tapping his watch and saying something to Hange that Levi couldn't catch over the cacophonous cheering that morphed in his ears into waves of white noise. Hange's team returned one by one as the crowd dispersed with their sated bloodlust. 

            The first rays spilled into the square at the conclusion of the count. Levi watched Hange's face, forcing himself awake for the verdict. He didn't need it to hear it. Their face said enough.   
  
            Hange knelt by him and pulled him into an embrace, muttering useless things like "-we'll think of something else-" and "-it's never too late-" as his eyes shut with the finality of it. He heard footfalls grow nearer and Mike's voice hopelessly garbled in his head. Other voices rose, their words crumbling in his ears and slipping into the dark. Blue eyes flickered in the void.

  
  
            He woke to a deep, rhythmic breathing that wasn't his own. His attempts to shift any part of his body in any direction were met with resounding protests from either stiff bandage, excruciating pain or the residual paralysis of a deep sleep. He permitted a strangled whine to leave him, trusting whatever nurse or medic who nodded off at his bedside to politely ignore it.  
  
            "Levi?"  
  
            Of course it was him. Levi screwed his eyes shut tighter, the desire to open them entirely gone.  
  
            "How long?" Levi asked, voice gravelly from sleep.  
  
            "Out for two days," Erwin said. Levi felt a hand smooth stray strands of hair from his eyes. He frowned, eyes remaining stubbornly shut. The day's events returned to him in fragments. A chill ripped through him as one in particular slipped into place.  
  
            "Come to gloat or discipline me first?"

            "Gloat?"  
  
            A beat. His mouth twisted in disgust at the question. He wanted Levi to say it. _I asked for your trust_ , Levi thought, _and_ _you gave it and I destroyed it and worse, I tried not to._

            "I failed."  
  
            Levi frowned as cold air claimed the warmth left by the retreating hand. He opened one eye with great effort. Erwin wobbled in his vision, but he saw enough of his cocked head and knitted brows to understand that he remained baffled.

            Erwin brightened suddenly. "Ah," he said, "You must have been out before Mike told you."

            Levi opened his other eye. "Please," he deadpanned, although with some difficulty now that the effects of the previous day reintroduced themselves in wave after crushing wave of pain, "continue to leave me in suspense. Don't even tell me what's for dinner. I feel adventurous."

            Erwin grinned. "I received word of that flash contest barely an hour after you left."

            "Four eyes has decent timing."

            "Hange is incredible. When I figured out what you two were up to, I collected the combined salaries of top Corps personnel for the twenty-four hour period that the provision allowed. It was nothing compared to what you and Hange raised, but it put us over the top."

            A vicious throb at his temple followed a flash of fury at his words. "How the fuck did you," he started, breathing deeply to steady the pounding in his head, "how did you know?"

            "I wrote that provision."

            Levi shut his eyes, palming at his throbbing head with a trembling hand. Erwin stood from his chair and drew the blinds over the afternoon sun.

            Levi inhaled deeply and said, "I knew you were an old man, but unless you passed that shit as a fucking infant-"

            "I didn't say I passed it."  
  
            Levi frowned.

            "Years ago, an associate and I doctored the legal record to install that provision. Archives, letters, private correspondences, books, diaries, newspapers- we were thorough," said Erwin, staring ahead distantly, "And any legislators or bookkeepers present at the bill's passing who still live have been, that is, _are_ convinced that the provision was there from the start."

            Levi considered him for a moment. He peered at Erwin from beneath the cloth and said, "Twenty-four hours? Really?"

            "It had to be. Anything more reasonable would have aroused suspicion. The legislature has a colorful record of unreasonable demands and restrictions on the legion. One more wouldn't have stuck out. Or two. Or three..." he said, trailing off.  
  
            Levi ignored the last thought for the sake of not inviting a greater headache and asked, "And how were you planning to take advantage of your ridiculous provision?" 

            Erwin grinned, eyes downcast and that smile, that easy, crooked smile appeared again. "I wasn't. Not at the time," he said softly. At Levi's scandalized face, he added, "I knew if it came to me, I would be ready. I had no idea it would come to you first."

            "So this is one big fucking coincidence, then?"

            Erwin eyed him gravely. "Levi, when you stood in my office three days ago, I had no idea what you intended to do in Sina," said Erwin, brows drawn together and eyes not leaving his. "Hange and their team reported that their presence there was to meet with university affiliates, a meeting that had been scheduled weeks ago. I only knew for sure when-" and here he stopped and smiled despite himself. He reached into a briefcase beside the bed. As he pulled out a book, Levi froze, picking out the familiar lettering on the spine. It was the book in which he had found the provision.  
  
            Levi groaned loudly as Erwin pointed to the upper right corner of the inside cover. A liberal film of dust had coated it before being displaced by what looked like a finger that had swiped indignantly at the grime.   
  
            "I don't mind sharing my library," said Erwin, enjoying Levis' mortified face with a broad smile, "You need not be so secretive about it."  
  
            Levi rubbed his temple as Erwin returned the book to the briefcase. "Wait," said Levi, staring Erwin down as memories returned in fragmented chunks, "Did you tell Mike to do that shit with the cloak? Because if you did-" 

            "We collaborated on that one," said Erwin. "We did it for the Corps, you understand."

            "Sure," said Levi, not entirely convinced by the way Erwin beamed at him. "And your plan?"

            "I had been coordinating a campaign against the sources of the rumors. The collection period was dragging on and while we needed evidence fast, compromising our agents was out of the question. We needed to prioritize targets and strike soon. But," said Erwin, frowning slightly, "exposing one would have-"

             "Tipped off the rest."

            "Right. It would have taken months, years to depose the others if we acted too soon. But now-"

            "You can take your sweet time."

            "Exactly. You and Hange gave us all the time in the world."

            Levi looked away. "You expected anything less?" he asked, trying to sound indignant and missing by miles, betrayed into tenderness by fatigue's hold on his voice.

            "I never-" Erwin started suddenly, eyes darting from one spot to another, but not at Levi, who caught the tick and stilled his thoughts. "I knew if I convinced you to join the Corps, it would gain one of the finest soldiers and mentors it has ever had, but," his eyebrows drew together as the smile returned, quiet and tentative. "I never expected a-"  
  
            "Suicidal moron?" Levi offered. 

            "A champion."

            Levi turned away and groaned.

            "I know you don't want to hear it-"

            "Perceptive."

            "So it'll be the last you hear of it-"

            "My prayers are answered."

            When Levi turned to him again, he found Erwin pensive.

            "Mine too," he said, eyebrows drawn as if deep in thought.

            "What?"

            "Hange, Mike. You. We can do it. We will," he said.

            Levi didn't expect clarification, but neither did he need freedom on his lips or titan gore on his heel to understand. Whether or not he believed that Erwin drew him along with strings tugging at his limbs, his mind, his heart didn't matter anymore. He didn't need to be.


End file.
